


Temporary Hiss

by Kamari333



Series: ain't this a lamia [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Consensual Kink, Consensual Touching, Kidnapping, Lamia, Lamiatale Sans (Undertale), M/M, Milking, Multi, Naga, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Past Abuse, Polyamory, Sans/Lamiatale Sans/Underfell Papyrus/Underfell Sans (Undertale), Sans/Underfell Papyrus/Underfell Sans (Undertale), Sleepy Cuddles, Snakes, Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), Venom Milking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:20:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22917610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamari333/pseuds/Kamari333
Summary: The Lamia decides that his nightmares can kiss the slimiest part of his ass, and comes to terms with his morosexuality.
Relationships: Papyrus/Sans (Undertale), Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: ain't this a lamia [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641097
Comments: 36
Kudos: 188





	Temporary Hiss

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wild Caught](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19255288) by [skumhuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skumhuu/pseuds/skumhuu). 
  * Inspired by [ain't this the life](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12319578) by [nilchance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nilchance/pseuds/nilchance). 



> Detailed trigger warnings in end notes (in case the tags were confusing).
> 
> This is inspired by both Nil's ATTL series and a fic called Wild Caught by Skumhuu (which i had been reading at the time I wrote the last one, Aint This A Lamia).
> 
> This is kinda a love letter to a weird new kink i got out of it.
> 
> Look, i even jumped onto nil's naming convention of using song titles (but punning with snake puns hahah lol)

He slams his tail against the bars of the cage, again, for at least the hundredth time. His tail aches. He feels where the repeated blunt force trauma has left him raw and bruised, like a fruit squeezed too hard. He doesnt care, and puts as much strength as he can muster into doing it again.

If they hadnt tangled his arms in the long sleeves of the weird jacket, tying the ends behind his back, pinning them uselessly to his chest, he would have picked the locks and been lost into the night. The jacket is a mockery of the gift his brother had made him, now ripped and left as so much debris on the forest floor. He hates it. He swears that he will never wear clothes again.

He doesnt know if it is a blessing or a curse that it is warm, and keeps him from falling to hibernation in the metal box ( _the truck, he heard them say, 'load it in the truck'_). He has learned so many new words the last few days, words that the passing humans with their cameras and their fanny packs and their cell phones never said. Words like 'straight jacket' and 'truck' and 'fucker bit me'.

The last one brings some comfort. His venom wasn't deadly like his brother's, but it was effective.

The truck comes to a stop, the great-big-purring-growl turning off. He knows this means they will come for him again. His mouth still tingles from the last time. He can taste the bitterness from the oil they left behind, his glands swollen and _tender_ even at just his tongue's prodding. It doesn't hurt. He wonders if he would have preferred it to.

The doors at the end of the truck swing open, and the light is blinding in the few seconds before his eyelights can constrict to slits. The humans are not stupid: they take that moment of vulnerability to yank him out of his cage, gripping him by the back of the neck.

He isn't the type to stand there and take it, lazy though he may be. He swings his tail as hard as he can in all directions, hoping to break any fragile monkey legs that might be in range.

Instead he feels his tail caught in two pairs of gloved hands.

"He's too strong!!" One human grunts. "How the hell are we supposed to-"

" **Leave that to me,** " says the voice that he hates for all time, the voice he never wants to hear. The Doctor's voice.

And that is a new word he wishes he never had to suffer learning.

" **Naga are dangerous, volatile creatures. The gene that prevents shape shifting is exceedingly rare, and we are fortunate to have found one with it. Like this, the instincts of mammalian and reptilian biology mix in a unique way that leaves the subject vulnerable to conditioning.** "

Those are a lot of words that he does not understand. ~~He didnt understand them then, and he hates that he understands them now.~~

The doctor comes closer, sliding gloves onto perforated hands. He moves like a predator. He smells like one. ~~He is one, he was one. The cheat.~~

He hisses, defiant. ~~Stupid~~.

The doctor smiles. " **Snakes tend to mate in a sort of orgy-like ball, which is a fight between males to woo the female. Struggling can be interpreted as a precursor to mating.** "

Two of the doctor's fingers probe around his hips. It isn't until they sink _inside_ him, up to the second knuckle, that he really starts to panic.

" **Of course,** " that disgusting, smug voice continues, pumping his fingers in and out of him as if they have any right to be there. Every progressive churn of his insides seems to wring out a little more of his fight, leaving him feeling weak and floppy. " **That means we have an opportunity to redirect that pesky energy.** "

He is so busy trying to figure out how to feel about being violated that he doesn't see the other hands come for his jaw. His fangs are pried open, exposing his tender glands to the cold open air. He hisses again, tongue swiping in a vain attempt at dislodging fingers coated in bitterness that make his mouth tingle more.

" **You see? It is distracted, and now perfectly manageable.** " The doctor sounds chillingly pleased, like the way he feels when particularly ornery prey is finally laid low by his fangs.

He doesn't want to be prey. He feels like prey. He hates it.

His head is tilted back, jaw pulled open further. The fingers inside him continue to invade his senses, like they are bigger than they are, filling more than he even has to be filled by sheer force of revulsion. " **As you can see, the first application already took effect. After a few more sessions, the glands will lose the trigger to cease production.** "

"What's that mean in english?" One human asks from behind him.

"It means we'll be rich!!" A human cheered from further down by his tail.

He does not know what that word means. What he does know is that he is going to be the one to pay.

A wide brimmed container is situated under his upper fangs, piercing a thin film. He wants nothing more in that moment than to bring the full force of his bite down on both the to-go-cup and the invading bitterness-bringing fingers, but the hinge of his jaw is pried wide open.

" **And this is why I am the brains,** " the hateful voice says, sweetened by a sense of victory.

Bitter fingers press up into his poison sacks, squeezing his venom out in lightning bursts that make him feel like he is generating his own heat. The noise he makes is the most humiliating thing to ever happen to him for all of five seconds, at which point it is beaten out by the shockwave of unwanted pleasure that floods his body and fogs his brain-

* * *

He came to wakefulness with the sharp suddenness that anyone who has ever been awoken by a nightmare knows. His soul was fluttering so fast in his chest he thought it might shatter. He didn't open his eyes: despite his above average night vision, his vision overall was comparatively poor, and the quick, nervous flick of his tongue to sniff the air told him more than his eyes could have dared try.

Slinky ( _and that was his name, the closest thing he had ever known as his own self, given to him to be known as himself among his new clan, by his mates_) was coiled up against the bodies of his mates, still smelling thickly of their consummation, heady with their combined musks. He had the back of his upper torso snuggled up against Edge ( _Edgelord, Pap, Boss_ , the one who chose him first), his long, strong arms outstretched to lay over the rest of them. Edge's skull was tucked down against the top of Slinky's own, sharp teeth nuzzling the top of his head in something painfully close to affection. Tucked up against the front of Slinky's upper torso was Sans (the runt, but he had good child bearing hips), hiding his face in Slinky's neck. A few of his fingers were curled into Slinky's ribcage, his other arm under Slinky's head as a pillow. On top of Slinky lay Red ( _asshole_ ), his limbs spread out over the three of them as if his territory hinged on covering as much space with his body as possible. One of his hands was tangled with Edge's where they curled over Sans's bare throat, slender ivory twining like so many snakes to share claim of the coil's of Sans' spinal column. Red's other hand was snuggled around Slinky's hip, sharp claws ghosting over his shiny new scales.

For creatures without tails, they were incredibly talented at forming a proper snake ball.

Slinky had never felt so warm or safe in his life.

So when his tongue bounced against the roof of his mouth and drummed a sharp beat of pleasure-pain through him, it nearly broke his nonexistent heart.

Slinky had fallen asleep after his thorough mating last night. He'd fallen asleep and forgotten to relieve himself. Now he was overfull, the building pressure starting to ache in a way he hated, which caused the rest of him to ache in the way he hated that he liked.

Except, he'd liked it last night. And liked that he'd liked it last night. When Red and Edge and Sans did it, he liked it. He wanted more of it, more of their hands that held him just right, of their warm bodies to coil around, of their teeth in his shoulder and neck, laying claim he gave freely. He never wanted it to stop.

~~Clearly the Doctor just sucks at everything and his hands are useless. That's why he needs so many. There was a joke in there somewhere about hands, screwing, and lightbulbs, but Slinky didn't quite have the mental string necessary to tie it all together.~~

An involuntary whimper escaped the lamia, shameful and pathetic. Any hopes that it could have gone unnoticed were crushed in an instant, as three pairs of hands twitched against his body, snuggling closer in sleepy, languid earnest.

Slinky did not need to open his own eyes to know his mates were very much awake, and very much paying attention.

"IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?" Edge asked, crisp intonation flooding Slinky's system. His scent, carried down Slinky's neck on his deliciously hot breath, reassured him of his position (safe).

Slinky wasn't good at enunciation, even on his best days. His tongue was long and thin and shaped for smelling, and he lacked the adaptability to reshape it to speak clearly as his mates could. As he was right now, Slinky couldn't move his tongue at all without agitating his swollen venom sacks.

Such a pity Slinky had to be a morosexual, exclusively attracted to whiny bitch dumbasses who were scared of his fangs like he would ever hurt his own clan. Otherwise, he could just open his mouth and show them what was likely an impressive amount of swelling. But no, Red was especially skittish and tended to react violently when startled, and with him on top, it wasn't smart to press his luck.

If Slinky could wiggle out from the snake ball, he could go to the bathroom and deal with it himself. The little basin on the floor had turned out to be perfect for it, complete with a switch that made water run and wash the damning evidence away. Not as perfect as the empty juice boxes and soda cans he fished out of the trash (which were more comfortable when he was diligent about it, doing it in small bursts over the course of the day), but better for bigger sessions thanks to its sheer size and ease of cleanup.

Honestly, this was his own fault for getting distracted by the cell phone. He knew better. He would just have to suck it up and deal.

Slinky finally opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to help his foci adjust to the darkness. As he suspected, two pairs of red eyelights were watching him, a single lazy white one observing from the side.

Red growled, all self satisfaction of a job reasonably well done. "didn't know snakes could sweat."

Slinky leveled Red with the most unimpressed expression he knew that none of them had the night vision to appreciate. It would always be the greatest crime of nature that Slinky couldn't snark back at his smug, annoying face in real time: _'firstly, snakes don't sweat because they're reptiles. secondly, he isn't a snake, he is a naga, albeit a naga with a chronic condition, so calling him a lamia would be more accurate to his phenotype, especially given he managed to seduce himself a harem in less than a month, which is a feat he knows from context that red couldn't manage at gunpoint. thirdly, that is absolutely red's slime all over him because red is the slimiest creature that slinky had ever come to personally know, and slinky spent his formative years communing with literal toads. fourthly, and he could never stress it enough, fuck you.'_

But Slinky couldn't say any of that in his own voice with the proper delivery. Such a shame, toad boy would never get to appreciate his wit.

Wiggling his long tail, Slinky began the regrettable process of leaving the warmth of his mating ball. Edge was kind enough to shift for him, giving him space. Red, the fucker, just continued to lay on him the whole time, purposefully making himself a point of delicious, delicious friction against Slinky's still tender scales. He couldn't hold in every noise, mewling whines he blamed on Red breaking the otherwise calming silence of the night. All three of his idiot mates seemed to get a kick out of his suffering, their faces warming in colored flushes as they watched his struggle.

Slinky couldn't bring himself to honestly mind. He was, after all, an incredibly attractive creature. He just wished they would wait until after he had done his business.

With one last shimmy, Slinky was free, curling over the pile to slide off the bed and head for the adjoining bathroom. If he happened to put more of his weight on Red than the other two, it certainly couldn't be helped. He was just a big dumb snake after all.

He felt the warmth of their gaze on him, following the muted glow of his tail as he made his way over the piles of 'dirty clothes' (which he didn't see the downside of — why Edge insisted on ruining good nest making material by soaking them in chemicals, he would never understand). He snagged a few to use as padding against the chilly bathroom floor, laying them down as he went so his underbelly wouldn't freeze. A bit of shifting let him coil up next to the floor-basin (he still didn't know the word for it), using the last shirt to wad up and drape over the rim and outside, insulating him from the annoyingly cold stone-like substance it was made from.

Wishing again that he could unhinge his jaw like a proper snake, Slinky pried his mouth open and bit lightly over the basin rim. The chemical smells that lingered from Edge's obsessive cleaning were comfortably masked by the slime-sweat of Red's shorts. Slinky again wished he could just bite into a sweater-smelling empty juice box, but he didn't think all his venom would fit in one by this point, and stopping to switch was hard.

He heard the soft shift from the bedroom. Someone was in the doorway. Slinky couldn't tell who with his tongue overwhelmed by Red's smell.

The bathroom light flicked on. Slinky growled his indignation, blinking again at the light.

"the hell are you doing to the toilet?!" Red snarled.

Slinky flipped him off with his free hand, as much of a thank-you as Red was ever going to get for giving him new vocabulary. Sans' laughter was a soft addition to the exchange, assuring Slinky someone would handle the slimy brat while he took care of himself.

Sliding his thumb behind his fangs, Slinky carefully probed at his swollen glands. Just a little pressure made his head fog and his body feel like he was endothermic. Pleasure-pain laced in a curve on that side of his mouth all the way to the hinge of his jaw, wringing out another shameful whine.

A little more pressure. A little more false heat. Slinky couldn't make himself press any harder. He knew he needed to, if he wanted it to come out in anything resembling a reasonable time, but every time he tried, his hands would shake and shy away.

This was going to take forever. He was in for a long, emotionally exhausting night bent over the 'toilet'.

Stupid none-snake mouth making it hard to control stupid snake functionality.

He heard the drip of his venom hitting the water. Progress.

"what the fuck is he doing??" Red asked someone who wasn't Slinky, because Red was an idiot.

"i think... that's his poison so... _milking himself_?"

Slinky had heard that word before. That sounded right. It also sounded far more lewd and embarrassing than Slinky had perceived it in previous contexts. His anger at his previous treatment spiked that little bit higher.

"DO YOU NEED HELP?" Edge asked.

That was the question, wasn't it.

"you keep your hands outa that things mouth," Red warned.

"IF HE IS SAFE TO FUCK, I THINK HE IS SAFE TO HANDLE IN EVERY OTHER WAY," Edge retorted.

"its pussy dont got poison in it, dumbass."

"I CAN WEAR GLOVES AND YOU CAN SHUT THE FUCK UP."

"oh-ho!" Red sounded delighted. "look who woke up on the wrong side of the orgy. what, grumpy your new pet left the bed so soon?"

"I AM GRUMPY THAT YOU STILL TREAT HIM LIKE A MINDLESS ANIMAL. OF THE THREE OF YOU, THE ONE MOST LIKELY TO DRAW BLOOD IS YOU."

"and dont you fucking forget it."

As the two argued, Slinky felt the smooth glide of bone against his tail. Sans was picking his way closer, stepping carefully to avoid walking on him. He ended up having to straddle Slinky's back, knees on either side of his tail. "usually i'm the one who needs help like this. mind if i pay that back?"

Slink couldn't see or smell Sans. His hearing wasn't good enough for him to feel confident navigating on it alone. Slinky pulled his thumb out of his mouth anyway, gripping the rim of the toilet bowl with both hands.

"ok. cool. can you tap my leg to let me know if i need to stop?? two taps for yes, one for no? or something?" Sans seemed perfectly content against his back, colder than Red or Edge but still a source of heat that Slinky could take comfort from.

The other two had ceased their bickering. Slinky got the feeling they were both irritated, spicy-sharp annoyance scenting the air thick enough to taste even with his mouth full. Slinky ignored them, reaching back to give Sans' one leg a gentle double tap. Let the runt help. He didn't like the idea of gloves in his mouth anyway.

Sans pressed his forehead to the back of Slinky's head, his breath battering hot on his neck. "cool. i never did this before so keep me posted. hurts right? hard to make yourself do things that hurt... hard to ask for help too."

Slinky heard the experience behind the words. He relaxed a little more. His new mates were dumb as rocks, but they were still good. He needed to go easier on them.

Sans' hand crept over Slinky's shoulder, leaving a trail of low warmth for him to follow, to know exactly where Sans was. Sans let his fingers linger on Slinky's clavicle, tips ghosting in little crescent patterns, before working their way up his neck. There's something exhilaratingly dangerous about Sans' hands, the lower temperature adding an edge to things despite the knowledge that he was the runt, and couldn't hurt Slinky if he tried.

Well, maybe if he tried, but not as much or as badly as Edge or Red could.

Slinky couldn't hold himself still. His body was keyed up from the stimulation, and Sans' warmth and gentle handling were only making the anticipation worse.

Sans' fingertips slowed to linger again around Slinky's bare throat. "you're, uh... you're kinda into this huh? is this intimate for you?"

The lamia hadn't thought of it that way before. He hadn't wanted to. ~~The idea that something else besides just his physical venom was being taken from him had been too much to process at the time. He's ashamed of his reactions. He's ashamed of being used.~~ For a split second, he hesitated.

His mates couldn't help him if he lied about his feelings. He'd waited so long to be asked how he felt, to hear someone give a damn. He absolutely refused to take it for granted.

Sans let out a shaky exhale when he felt Slinky give the double tap, a whispered little profanity shredded in it. Slinky let his anxiety bleed away: if his mates were 'into it' too, there was nothing wrong with him. He was safe. And he was going to fucking revel in it.

His mouth was really starting to ache, however, the pleasure-pain creeping on not-so-pleasurable-pain. Slinky put his hand on Sans' wrist, giving it a nudge.

"right. sorry."

"is it weird that this is kinda hot?" Slinky heard Red rumble.

"DON'T MAKE IT WEIRD." Edge said softly.

Sans finally eased his hand over Slinky's maxilla, his pointer finger pressing a line against his nasal ride for leverage, forcing Slinky to squint one eye shut. He didn't mind. The warmth on his face was relaxing. The lack of gross-rubber-smell made it even better.

"comfortable?"

Double-tap.

"you ok with them watching?"

Double-tap.

"that's good. they get weirdly protective so it woulda taken a while to make them leave."

"fuck you!"

The words sounded less like aggression, and more like someone had made a harp string out of their affection and played a haunting melody on it. Slinky thought it was funny that they thought sarcasm and irony would veil their intent.

His mates were so fucking stupid.

Slinky only had a few seconds to marvel at his own fondness before Sans' thumb curled behind his fangs to make contact with his venom sacks. He'd warned of his inexperience, but that didn't prepare Slinky for the sudden, clumsy prodding.

On the upside, it made quick work of some of the building pressure, venom shooting out of him to hit the waiting water below in a loud splashing burst. Slinky whined, his whole tail thrashing weakly as his mind fogged up.

"woah. those feel... uh. wow those are kinda big. no wonder you're uncomfortable. was... uh... that too rough??"

Single-tap. Slinky would have preferred a steadier hand, but honestly that was exactly what he needed. More. Just like that.

"ok." Sans' other hand was trying to find something to do, somewhere to hold onto. Slinky gripped it, guiding it to lay flat against Slinky's soft underbelly. The warmth was a soothing balm. The tingle was just one more distraction. Slinky liked being held and he was going to keep liking it, fuck you very much.

Sans resumed the clumsy, gradually steadying pressure. It was gentler than the first time, oddly touching in its care. Slinky let his other eye drift shut, going lax save for the floppy, boneless wiggling he couldn't control.

The sound of pouring liquid echoing against not-rock was going on Slinky's list of good noises, right up there with wet-cloth sliding on bone and the creak of the mattress as bodies settled on it.

Slinky's voice cracked, scratching at his throat as he came, shuddering at the flood of false heat and electricity. He felt a surge of dampness on his underbelly, where it had squirted from his slit to dribble down his scales, mingling with the slimy sweat his mates had left on him like oil.

"holy shit." Red's voice sounded raw, dry, hungry.

"i'm still here," Sans assured quietly, thumb lingering on the ecto still clinging to the roof of Slinky's mouth, rubbing soothing little circles into the empty venom gland, working him through the haze. "double tap when you're ready for the second one. we're here." His other hand was running up and down Slinky's underbelly in slow strokes.

The setup was awkward and the whole ordeal was embarrassing, but Slinky felt supported.

Double tap.

Sans stretched his thumb over to prod and massage at the other gland. Slinky's whole body locked up as legitimate pain pierced through him. He hissed, thrashing his lowermost tail against the floor as he held the rest of him as still as possible.

More water pouring noise, so some of it was released.

Sans flinched, pulling his thumb back. "did that hurt??"

Slinky double tapped. No point trying to lie.

"...are you ok?"

Double tap.

"...you want me to keep going?"

Double tap.

Sans nuzzled the back of Slinky's neck, breathing deep. "heh. sorry. just. uh. checking in? since you can't talk."

"keep going, sweetheart." Red purred, closer now, on the other side. Somehow he had gotten passed Slinky without him noticing, and was sitting on the edge of the tub. "he's fine, just tender. faster ya work, better he's gonna be."

"you just wanna see him come," Sans quipped, rubbing his free hand up and down Slinky's side. The warmth and pressure was helping him relax again, uncoiling the tension the pain had caused.

"WE WILL FIGURE OUT A MORE COMFORTABLE SETUP FOR THIS PROCEDURE IN THE FUTURE," Edge said. He sounded like his nerves were braided together in a net and stretched out as far as they could reach, only to strain at the pressure of struggling prey. "FOR NOW, THE SOONER HE IS NOT BENT OVER THE TOILET, THE BETTER."

Sans took another deep breath. "ok. gonna try again..."

The pain had eased back to something manageable, letting Slinky drift back into the safety of the pleasured fog in his head. He didn't have to think about anything. He was safe. And warm. And the hands on him only wanted him to feel better. To feel _good._

He saw stars. His whole world faded to false heat and relief and comfort, the low rumble of voices around him an assurance of safety. He didn't know how long he was bent over the toilet, cum drunk and salivating like a starving dog, but when he came to, his mouth was blessedly soothed and pain-free.

Carefully, so as not to hurt himself or the warmth at his back, Slinky pulled his mouth away from the toilet, sniffing the air properly. Sans was behind him, drenched in sweat. Red was to his one side, still on the bathtub and twice as sweaty as Sans. He had the distinct musk of sex on him, telling Slinky he'd been jacking it idly to whatever had happened between one stage of coherency and the next. Slinky leaned over and rested his head in Red's lap, tired and ready to go back to sleep in warmth.

Sharp claws alighted on his skull, scratching sweetly in a slow drag.

Edge was still in the doorway, the spice of perfect precision control save for the soft flavor of wood, let into the air where his hand had dug grooves into the doorframe.

Edge's scent became stronger as he came closer.

Sans moved aside, joining Red on the tub rim.

Edge's spicy-sweet control and extra warmth curled around Slinky, gathering him up and lifting a good fourth of his body clear off the ground.

"hey, i was using that," Red's gravel ladened voice snarked.

"WE CAN ALL TEND TO HIM BACK IN BED. IT IS COLD AND CRAMPED IN HERE." Edge tutted.

Slinky churred, nuzzling his face on Edge's shirt. Edge thumbed at the curve of his tail, and the flair of his hip.

"AND GRAB A WARM WETTED CLOTH WHILE YOU ARE HERE."

"yessir," Sans hummed.

Then Slinky was being carried, Edge ever careful not to step on the length of his tail still dragging on the floor. Slinky moved it to coil around Edge's leg, drinking in his heat and removing a tripping obstacle.

His mate carried him back to the bed-nest, and his smaller mates joined moments later. Slinky felt warm wetness on his face, wiping the toilet smells away, before it went lower to remove the slime.

One of the boxes of fruit juice derivative was brought into range. Slinky bit into it, draining it in a refreshingly messy kill that left sticky sugar on his teeth and dripping down his jaw.

"dumb animal," Red huffed. Slinky had been called that before, but never with such fondness. A dry cloth wiped his face of the stickiness, replacing food-smell with mate-smell. "use the damn straw."

Slinky flipped Red off. He wasn't sure what a straw was, but as soon as he knew, he vowed to never, ever use one.

Warmth crept in from all sides, reinitiating the snake ball, if in a different formation. Sans was on top now. Slinky resigned himself to being the most well-oiled naga to ever exist.

And he was very, very okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Gaster is a bastard man, kidnaps lamia, uses chemicals to change the frequency that lamia's venom works, and uses sex-adjacent activities like fingering and orgasms to make lamia docile during the milking. thats all in the past tho, and now lamia has consent crazy mates who ask what he wants
> 
> lamia trusts out of pure spite of not letting gaster ruin his life.
> 
> slinky is the most spiteful bastard istg. he deals with his issues headfirst. he's a goddamn trouper. thats why he gets all the pets


End file.
